Light the Way
by Tora Marikama
Summary: Decades after the fall of man, an oddball of a doll has been chosen to become a creator. He has a lot of expectations to live up to and he’s about to find out that his species has a dark past. Warnings: oc’s and character death.
1. prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own this. 9 belongs to Shane Acker.

This idea was inspired by talisman .9experament dot com, a site where you can create your own talisman.

**A note from the beta of this story:** There is an annotation in the story, marked with a number within parentheses like the following example (1). The explanation for this particular aspect of the story is located at the end notes of this story. Please read the story before reading the annotation. Thank you.

* * *

Light the Way

Prologue: The Start of the New World

* * *

9 was lost.

Not physically; he knew where he was in that regard. But mentally, he wandered aimlessly, thoughts blending and melding together in a big glump, sending his mind running around pointlessly in one big loop. He had been at it for days, and he knew the others were starting to worry, but something was bothering him and he just couldn't relax until he figured it out.

He was lying on his back, arms behind his head as he watched the clouds of dust above him as his thoughts finally started slowing down. The mechanisms in his eyes twisted and turned, tightening then dilating as he slipped closer and closer into rest mode.

Just as his eyes finally stopped twitching, something hit him in the side. 9 yelped in shock and jolted awake, to find 7 standing over him.

"What was that for?", 9 grumbled as 7 helped him get up.

"You're moping again." She crossed her arms and waited for the argument that was sure to come.

"Am not," pouted the younger stitchpunk.

"9….you need to let it go. They can't…. they can't come back," her voice was filled with sorrow, and 9 knew those words weren't meant just for him.

"We should be happy for them. They're free."

"….I know." 9 winced and turned around. He sounded even less convincing than she did. "That's not what's bothering me. I just need---some time to think." He started to stumble off, when a spring hit him on the cheek. 9 paused and turned to glare at 7, while rubbing the side of his face.

7 glared right back, and shook a finger at him. "I don't know what's going on, 9, but you better be back by nightfall. I don't care how much thinking you need to do, I will hunt you down and drag you home kicking and screaming."

9 laughed, loving the way that one word sounded: _home_. "Alright, I'll see you later."

He wandered for a while, until he found a nice spot on top of a car.

Their world was changing.

All of the recent rain they were getting caused mold and fungi to grow. There were even a few mushrooms. The twins explained through text extracts that these odd growths would help break down the decay and clean the planet. It wouldn't be long before the ground became rich with nutrients again, and more life would grow.

"_Life must go on." _

9's head clanked loudly against the car's hood as he lay down. This wasn't the first time he heard those words repeat in his head, haunting him.

"_Life must go on."_

He scrunched up his cloth face, trying to make sense of those phrases. They had to mean something…more.

"_You shall protect the future."_

Frustrated, 9 stood back up and screamed to the barren waste land the one question that he couldn't find an answer to: "HOW?! How am I supposed to do that?!"

The stitchpunk stood there, stock still, as if the landscape could give the answer to him. 9 sighed in defeat, and slumped back down, as lost as ever before.

* * *

"This has been going on for too long! It's been _three_ weeks. Just tell me what's troubling you." 9 sighed and looked up from the book he was bent over.

He had turned to 3 and 4's extensive collection of books for the answer that he was becoming more desperate to find, but he refused to let the others help. It just felt like something he needed to figure out on his own.

"9…" the male doll looked away, pretending to be interested in the book. He was not going to cave in now. Nope, no way was he… "9…look at me…" 9 wiggled the seams of his mouth together, much like how humans used to bite their lips. She was using _**that**_ tone; that concerned, sweet whisper that he couldn't resist. "9…please…"

Accepting defeat, 9 looked up. "You're really starting to make me worry 9. You don't need to go through this alone. We would help you if you would just let us." She sat down in front of him and ran a hand down the back of his head.

9 held back a whimper as his final defenses fell. That worked every time. She knew it, and always used it to her advantage. She knew…it suddenly hit him that 7 could have made him melt into a compliant puddle of goo long ago, but she didn't. She had given him the opportunity to work it out on his own, but that wasn't getting him anywhere. She was right; he needed help.

"There has to be more." When she just sat there, confused, he elaborated, "He…the Scientist, I mean…he told me that 'life must go on, thus I created you, 9. You shall protect the future', but I don't know what that means."

"9, that's what's been bothering you? You did save the future, and life is coming. We can already see the signs. These things just take time. "

"I saved the future from myself. That's not the same as protecting it. It can't be the same. If it was, then I wouldn't have a purpose anymore. And I don't think that's what he meant by life going on. There has to be more to it!" 9 tried to get up, but 7 grabbed his shoulder and dragged him down.

7 climbed on his back and pinned him down with her legs while she used her hands to rub his back. 9 moaned into the book, "I **hate** it when you do that."

He could hear the smirk in her voice as she said, "No, you love it. You just hate that I use it against you." As she kneaded his shoulders she could feel the metal supports and other mechanisms relax under her touch.

"You don't understand," came the next mumble.

She leaned forward and whispered, "I don't need to. I'll still help you to the best of my ability. Rest now, and tomorrow we'll ask the twins if they know anything."

7 ran her hand up and down the seam on the back of his head, until it finely lulled forward. Chuckling, she got up to retrieve a blanket for him.

Sometimes it was just too easy.

* * *

9 stood in front of the open book in a state of awe, and perhaps a bit of apprehension to touch it. It had, after all, belonged to his Creator. It felt strange, as if he was a child messing with his parent's things without permission. But it wasn't like he could ask.

Unlike the others, he never got the chance to meet the Scientist. This would be the only way he would ever get to know the man that made him.

He turned a few pages, not really trying to read the tiny scrawled handwriting because it took too much effort to decipher it. 9 shivered when he turned another page to find a picture of the Fabrication Machine looking back at him. He quickly continued flipping, not wanting to ever see that thing again.

There were newspaper clippings, war posters, letters, and photographs taped into the journal, on almost every other page. 9 continued flipping through it, his pace picking up as minutes went by. He was completely unsure of what he was looking for…

…Until one of the letters fell out. 9 halted, turned back a page, and picked the letter up to put it back in its proper place. But as he pressed the tape against the book, he read the piece of paper. Then he read it again, just for good measure.

9 looked over his shoulder where the other three were watching him and told them, "I- I think I found it."

3, 4 and 7 stepped closer to read it for themselves.

'_Friends, it appears that our battle against these soulless beasts is proving too overwhelming for the forces of mankind. Yet while their gas bombs may wring the breath from our lungs, and their guns lay waste to our villages, these machines cannot take away our precious memories. Now is the time...save your memories for the future.'_ (1)

7 looked from the book, to 9, to the book again, the gears in her head literally turning as she tried to put the puzzle pieces together. "What does that mean?"

9 squinted at the writing at the opposite page, still having difficulty reading it.

3 grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the way; while 4's eyes blinked rapidly as she displayed the page 9 had failed at reading, and tried to clear it up. 7 and 9 squinted at it, still having a bit of difficulty understanding it.

"There are more talismans…h-he made more than one…" 9 backed up, his optics nearly fully dilated while he tried to comprehend what exactly that meant.

When 9 had paused in shock, 7 continued, "He gave them out, and told everyone that the devices would save their memories." 7 could imagine the kind old man handing the little metal devices to children and frightened mothers. She could imagine the words he spoke as he gave them to the young men about to face their death on the battle field. She could envision the hope and trust he created, even as they all crept closer to the end.

"They never knew. They never knew that it wasn't they're memories that they put into the talismans." 4's eyes flickered off and she slumped into the arms of her brother.

The library remained silent for a long time while the stitchpunks mulled over their thoughts.

* * *

It was another dead end.

9 was perched on top of the car that he had claimed as his thinking spot, a finger running over the talisman in his hand. Or at least they thought it was a talisman.

They had found it in the back pocket of a man that lay near the monastery. It had been a pain to locate it then roll the man over far enough to squeeze it out. The others had been reluctant at first to help 9, and he knew now why the others had never accidentally found one of the talismans. But even after all that work, 9 wasn't any closer to his answer then before.

It was shaped like a talisman, but it was a bit smaller than the original and didn't have a connection piece on the back. Of course it didn't. The Scientist didn't want to take the risk that the B.R.A.I.N might find them and use it, which also explained the seal.

The top was covered in a strange substance that 9 couldn't get off. Which was why he was now back at his thinking spot, pondering over it.

"_Click."_ 9 looked up to see 3 and 4 staring at him curiously with their big flashing eyes.

" Hey, guys. Did you need something?" The twins clicked and flickered at him, then pointed to the sky. 9 looked up, surprised by the dark angry clouds that he didn't notice before. "Oh. Alright, I'm coming."

As they made their way back to their home, 3 and 4 skittered ahead of him, then they would run back and chase each other around 9. The more mature stitchpunk laughed at their antics, and at one point ended up giving the two a piggy back ride.

A drop splashed on 9's arm, and a little bit of it got on the new talisman. 9 tried to rub the water off, but the surface became slippery and the waxy substance stuck to his hand. Laughing, he rubbed it vigorously as more drops came down and landed on the talisman. The twins cataloged and clicked in excitement as they watched the substance dissolve.

He was one step closer.

* * *

9 now knew exactly what he needed to do.

The others had helped him clean two of the rooms out, one to be a storage room, and the other would be his work room. 9 set up a little work bench and a storage system, then went off to collect little odds and ends, determined to fill the storage room to the brim.

He gathered ribbons and buttons, shoelaces, yarn, string and needles, pony tails, and bobby pins. He took pieces off of toys, and dismantled different things for their parts, even the beasts. In his crazed obsession, he even went as far as to take apart the B.R.A.I.N.

He took anything and everything that could be useful and put it in the storage room. 3 and 4 were more than happy to help sort the stuff out and it gave them a chance to do more cataloging. But above all, 9 collected the talismans and made a special place for them in the storage room.

Cloth was the hardest to find. Well, technically it could be found, it was practically everywhere, really, but 7 wouldn't let him take it. She said it was disrespectful to take the clothes away from the dead, but 9 was desperate.

Then he thought that it would be fine if he explained why he needed it. 7 wouldn't have anything to do with it, but she didn't stop him. 9 hesitated the first time he approached one of the bodies, remembering what 2 had once told him. _"Some things in this world are best left where they lay."_

But he needed that cloth. He talked to the woman as he worked on cutting off a piece of her shirt, telling her that she was helping him prepare the future. 9 made sure to only take one piece from each person. Soon he had a nice collection of denim, leather, felt, silk and patterned cotton shirt bits.

Sometimes 9 would get lucky and find a stuffed toy and strip it of its fur. Other times he would find a bed sheet, towel or sock that could be used. He got extremely lucky one day when 7 found a whole chest filled with clothes. They had to cut them all into smaller pieces and take just a few at time. It took them a few days to empty the whole chest.

This led to the invention of the first new world vehicle. Well, technically, it was just a rusty old wagon that 9 had rigged up. One of the wheels had been missing and the replacement didn't fit quite right which made it wobble. The steering could be difficult at times too, but it was a start and it made collecting things easier. And because of the increase of items they were gathering, more rooms had to be cleaned out for storage.

Then came the day when they went to the sacred first room. 7 didn't want to do it, but she knew that there would be things there that 9 would consider invaluable.

They gathered up tools, blueprints and little knick-knacks, but as 7, 3 and 4 were about to prepare to leave, 9 approached the Scientist, his cutting tool in hand.

The body was rotting and falling apart, and 9 supposed that it would have smelt horrible if he in fact, could smell. 9 wondered if the Scientist purposefully designed them to be that way, knowing that the world he left them to would be decaying and crumbling.

He didn't know what to say at first. He didn't really need to explain to the Scientist, because he had probably planned for it to be this way in the first place. But after all of the collecting he had done, it became a habit to talk while he worked. So he had to think of something to say.

"I'm trying." 9 positioned his tool at the edge of the lab coat, but didn't start cutting. Instead, he looked back up at the Scientist's face. "Sometimes it's hard to understand you, but I'm giving it my best. There's so much I want to tell you, ask you…I wish…" 9 choked on his words, and stopped talking as he started working on the piece of cloth.

After a few minutes, he started up again, "I'm not going to make any more mistakes. The others…died because of m-me. I'm not going to let that happen again. I promise. I'm not perfect; you never meant for us to be perfect, did you? But I'll try my best to do this the right way."

9 stepped back with the piece of cloth in his hand, as he got one last look at the man that brought him to life. "I'm not going to let your death--the death of your whole species--be in vain. I will protect the future. I will. Good bye…Creator."

9 turned and walked away, clutching the piece of lab coat to his chest.

* * *

9 stood back, glowing with pride as he looked his creation over again for any faults.

They had to be perfect. Each one had to be unique and special, sewn and welded with love and care. He was taking his time, as much time as was needed. There was no war hanging over their heads now so he had all the time he needed to perfect them. And soon, once he had all nine of them, he would fill them with life.

They had found grass yesterday. It was just a little clump, but it wouldn't be long now until it once again covered the earth like a blanket. 9 hoped that by the time his creations were ready, that there would be no more signs of the war. He wanted them to wake up to a bright and green world; a world of peace.

9 smiled and ran a hand over the head of his first creation, A1. He wondered if this was how fathers felt when their child came into the world, kicking and screaming. He wondered if…this was how the Scientist felt when he was created.

9 gave the lifeless doll one last pat and whispered to it, "Life must go on."

* * *

ANNOTATIONS: (1) This also isn't mine. It's an excerpt from the Scientist's Journal and can be found at 9experiment dot com and on the 9 Scientist's FaceBook page.

Author's note: I was planning to just put this up for adoption, but it grew attached to me. I also wanted to just focus on the original stitchpunks, but a particular side character begged me to make him the focus of this story. So from this point on it's going to be OC orientated. You will meet him in the next chapter, 20 years or so into the future.

For the naming: I remember seeing a video where Shane Acker mentioned that he only made 9 dolls because on a scale from 1 to 10, 9 is the closest you could ever get to making a perfect human replica. So it didn't seem right to me to make a 10th doll. But it also didn't strike me as right to pick something that isn't a number. Thus I came up with this, where the letter represents the generation, and each generation is made up of 9 dolls.


	2. The ceremony

Disclaimer: I don't own this.

* * *

Light the way

Chapter 1: The Ceremony

-----------------

"E6…E6! Get up! We're going to be late!"

The young stitchpunk gasped and jumped up from the desk that he had fallen asleep at. He tried to dash for the door way but his legs didn't keep up and he tripped, causing a few things on the shelves to join him on the floor.

"Oww…wait…" . They didn't have any teachings today, and it was almost night time anyway, unless… "What's today?" , moaned E6 as he collected himself from the floor.

His closest friend and roommate, E3, ran back into the room and grabbed his cloak, all the while exclaiming, "Honestly---today's the ceremony!"

E6 gasped in shock, quickly grabbed in own cloak, and chased after E3 down the stairs, screaming, "We're going to be late!"

E3 glared over his shoulder and shouted back, "That's what I told you!"

The two dolls dashed out of the apartment that they shared with everyone from their generation, Generation E. They ran down the grassy hill, past the other apartments, crossed the stream, and started up the next hill.

E6 couldn't believe that he was going to be late. Out of all of the stupid things he had done in the past, this was the worst. He was going to be late for his own ceremony!

It was an upstanding tradition for the newest generation to gather around the fire pit on their first birthday, and officially meet their Creator, not as a newly made, but as a fully understanding and educated stitchpunk. It was also the day the next Creator was chosen.

When a Creator was chosen, they left the group and joined the other Creators at the sacred grounds. There, they would create and bring the next generation to life. After spending a week with the newly made dolls, the Creator would take them down to the village and leave them to grow and develop on their own.

E6 could care less about the next Creator; what he was really excited about was meeting **his **Creator. There were so many things he wanted to ask him. Like, why fur? E6 stuck out like a sore thumb, and it was such a pain to clean. It was bad enough he got teased for being different, but his appearance had to match.

E6 was of an awkward build. He was on the short side with large, clumsy metal hands. Unlike the more traditional materials, he was made of faux fur, except for one spot on his back where a circle had been cut out and replaced with a piece of leather that his name was written on. The fur on his head had been chopped short, particularly around his eyes and mouth, and it gave him a strange, scruffy look. E6 was held closed with a thick piece of rope that was threaded through holes in his front and tied with a knot.

He envied E3 and his smooth, completely leather body with his shiny buttons and their siblings that were made out of denim, just like their Creator. He wouldn't even mind cotton, even though those made of the weaker material could never do manual work, as they would tear too easily.

E6 didn't have anything nice, like a zipper, ribbon or even yarn; no, just an ugly old bit of rope. He just had to know what had been going on in his Creator's head when he had been built.

When the two boys made it to the fire pit, panting and shaking, the Creators had already arrived and theirs, D2, was greeting the other Ds.

"You're late!" hissed a voice from behind him.

E6 looked over his shoulder at an angry A8 and hissed back, "We know! At least we're here now…" The older doll gave the two a shove, and told them to take their places. E6 squeezed in between E5 and E7, who didn't even seem to notice his absence.

E6 looked across the glowing pit, to see the Ancient sitting on the other side, gazing into the dancing flames. E6 hadn't seen the Ancient since the day of his creation, and he looked just the same as that fateful day when E6's optics lit up for the first time. He was stained from years of exploring and building and creating, each mark telling its own story loud and proudly. His joints squeaked when he moved about, and the worn out zipper no longer closed up all the way. But he was still quick to smile and offer a kind word or a helping hand.

E6 was worried though about the way he watched the fire, as if he wasn't really seeing. The Ancient had no expression on his face and seemed…lost. He leaned in close to the flames, and E6 feared that he would scoot too close, and spontaneously catch aflame and burn to ashes.

E6 considered telling someone, but before he could get the attention of one of the older stitchpunks, D2 stepped forward and called out, "My creations, it's been far too long! It brightens me greatly to finally get to see all nine of you."

D2 started to make his way around the circle, taking his time to greet each of them In turn. E6 could hardly stop himself from bouncing in excitement. He would finally get his answers.

D2 was beautiful. He was crafted out of fine, bright blue denim and his copper and gold hands shone in the light of the flames. Unlike the older stitchpunks, he didn't have any extra stitchings from rips or accidents and he was held shut with a faded piece of white ribbon. E6 couldn't understand how such an amazingly designed person who built just as beautiful creations could make…someone like him.

Finally, his turn had come.

E6 held his breath as he waited, and watched as his Creator frowned at him. "Hello, E6. I've heard some…interesting things about you."

E6's optics dilated in horror. _No…no…._

"Yes, they told me about your problem. They kept me updated on the progress all 9 of you were making. The day I heard about you, I knew I had to tell you something very important. I wanted to tell you so badly, but I couldn't break tradition. I had to wait for today. E6…"

E6 shut his optics tight and clinched his hands. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was going to get disowned…by his own Creator.

He had been so foolish. Why did he expect otherwise? Everyone else looked down on him, except E3, but E6 had his suspicions that his older brother only tolerated him out of pity.

"…I'm proud of you."

E6 opened his optics in surprise. He must have heard wrong, but the arms that embraced him into a hug confirmed it.

His Creator whispered into the side of his head, "How can I not be? You're my creation, after all. I put a lot of effort and love into you, and you've turned out just fine. Despite who you've become, or who you will be, I'll always be proud of you, E6."

Suddenly all of his questions and worries didn't matter anymore. D2 loved him for who he was; someone loved him, and there was no greater feeling then that. He pressed his face into the denim shoulder while he shook and sobbed in glee. And D2 held him tightly, until his creation finally managed to whisper back, "Thank you."

It couldn't last forever, and soon D2 had to let go and move on to his other creations, but E6 was fine with that. He felt like all of his regrets and mistakes had been wiped off, and he could continue on without the past hanging on his shoulders.

D2 finished speaking to E9 and went to the Ancient, who was still hypnotized by the flickering light. When the Ancient didn't react to his presence, D2 pated the oldest doll of all on the shoulder. "Ancient? Ancient, it's time now. Anc- 9, are you all right?"

The old stitchpunk finally looked away and smiled up at the denim punk. "Oh, yes, yes, I'm quite alright. I just…thought of something…." He gazed off, lost in his own mind again, but thankfully he wasn't looking at fire this time. "Something I haven't remembered in such a long, long time…" He shook his head, his smile widening as he stood on wobbly legs and quickly grabbed his cane to help support himself. "Enough of that though. Let me get a good look at these young ones."

E6 didn't pay attention to the rest of the ceremony. It didn't matter to him which of his siblings would be picked. It would end soon and he could return to his bed and rest peacefully, knowing that someone cared about him and that all in the world was well.

"You. You were meant to be a Creator."

E6 looked up to see who was chosen. While he didn't care who it was, he wanted to give them the respect they disserved. They were siblings, after all, even though he regretted it most of the time.

E6 was thoroughly confounded when he saw the Ancient standing in front of…him.

Everyone was staring at him in shock. There was no way…

"You can't mean the fuzz ball!" E6 rolled his eyes in irritation and sighed.

_And now it starts…._

"Yeah, there's no way he can be a Creator! He's useless!"

_It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because at least one person cares, maybe two…_

"He's horrible at everything! Such a loser…"

_It's not true…_

"He can never do anything right. He'll ruin the next generation, just like he ruined everything else!"

E6 looked up at D2, who was watching him with worry stitched on his face. Then he spun around to find E3, who seemed concerned and confused. _At least two cared…_

A8 screamed at the mass of upset stitchpunks, "Quiet! Quiet down! I'm sure the Ancient will explain his…odd choice."

The field did grow silent and optics tailed the Ancient, who, to their horror, shrugged and said, "There's nothing to explain. He's meant to create, and that's that."

The uproar started again, with A8 failing at calming them down. E6 had to end this. There was no way he was going to go through with this and disappoint everyone. If he explained his situation, the Ancient would have no choice but to pick someone else. So he approached the Ancient warily and mumbled, "But its…true. I have no talent. I am a failure."

The angry hollering suddenly cut off, and the only sound that could be heard was the Ancient's hysterical laughter. Once he calmed down a bit, he wheezed out between chuckles, "They might…they might see a failure…but you are anything but that, child!"

The Ancient took a few big breaths, then continued much calmer, "They may not see it, and you may not see it, but I know who you are, E6. You are who you are, and you were meant to create."

The fuzzy stitchpunk was thoroughly confused, but it seemed that the old burlap doll was not going to give him a straight answer. The Ancient patted him on the shoulder and said, "I will see you in a month's time, young one, and then your training will began."

The fire was put out, and the Creators started on their long journey home.

E6 stood in the dark amongst his brethren, still confused.

* * *

Author Note: The idea of a furry stitchpunk wouldn't leave me alone. It's not my fault, it's his! He wouldn't stop pouting and begging me to give him his own story! Get you hard hats folks, there be lots of teenage stupidity and drama up ahead.


	3. Worries and stories

Disclaimer: I don't own this.

Author's note: I'm sorry. I've made you guys wait this long, and this is all I have to offer. this story is on the back burner for now. Ideas, advice or qestions? I would love to hear them.

* * *

Light the Way

Chapter 2: Worries and Stories

-----------------

E6 laid face down on his bed, moaning and whining while E3 hurried about, pulling things out of cabinets or removing them from shelves.  
"You only have an hour left---won't even get up and pack yourself…really; I don't know how you're going to survive without me."

E6 groaned, "But I don't want to go!"

E3 dropped the objects he had collected together next to E6. "You don't have a choice. If you don't leave willingly, they will chase you out of the village with torches."

E6 pondered that. Yeah, he could see that happening. After the older punks had adjusted to the idea of E6 being chosen, they all became a bit too overjoyed at the idea of him leaving.

"Maybe this is for the best," E3 forced him to sit up and undid his rope. "You really don't have a place here. You can't build, can't design, can't garden…" E3 placed a map inside of E6.

"You're not helping…just cutting open a stitch." A knife, lantern, and comb joined the map.

"What I'm trying to get at is maybe you never fit in here because you belong at the sacred grounds."

E6 scoffed, "It wasn't like that for the other creators. They were actually good at something when they were chosen."

E3 sighed and laced his friend back up. "Well, it was a thought."

"Maybe I should just run away---Ouch!" E6 winced when his friend pulled his rope too tightly.

"They will just chase you down and force you back. How much do you want to bet that the lookouts in the tower are going to be watching you the entire time?"

E6 groaned again; it seemed as if there really wasn't any way he could get out of it. E3 threw E6's cloak over his shoulders and straightened it. "There, you're all ready. Make sure you stick to the route, don't do anything stupid---seriously E6, you'll just make it harder for yourself if you try to escape. Um…and…"

His favorite brother started fiddling with the clasp on the cloak and smoothing the fabric over his shoulders nervously. "…And don't get distracted by shiny things! Or…um…stray from the route---wait, did I already say that? Oh, make sure to count all your fingers…"

"E3…" E6 stopped his friend's fidgety hands by pressing his own against them. "I'll be fine." E6 got up and grimaced at the way the objects jumbled around inside of him. And he had a whole day of traveling ahead of him. Just _great_.

"Miserable, but fine," he added sourly.

"Well..." E3 cleared his voice box and ducked his head in embarrassment. E6 thought it was amusing how E3 got so over protective at times and usually teased the older stitchpunk about his maternal ways. "…we better get going. They're probably already waiting on us."

E6 sighed one last time, and left the apartment, with E3 right beside him. Only half of the village was present, actually, much to E6's relief. As he passed by, the other E's glared and called out things like, "You better not screw up!" or, "Don't burn the sacred grounds to the ground, Fuzzy!" He received warmer farewells from the older punks, but E6 knew that they were just glad that he was permanently out of their lives.

He waited at the edge of the village, and tried to endure the shouting and calls. He wanted to leave right then, if just to get away from the riled-up village folks, but tradition stated that he had to wait for morning's first ray of light. Traditions be damned, he wanted out of there before things got out of control.

After what seemed like days worth of torture, an orange glow finally seeped over the horizon. E6 gave one last farewell to E3, before taking his first step on his journey to the sacred grounds.

* * *

E6 tried to look over the long grass and get a glimpse of the lookout tower in the distance, to see if there were any telescopes pointed at him. He couldn't tell, though; not that it made a difference or anything. Anyway he looked at it, he was trapped.

He turned back around to face the direction of the sacred place, which loomed up ahead---E6 jumped back in surprise when his foot hit something that wasn't dirt. A black bug that he didn't know the name of hissed at him, than scurried off. E6 waved after it and called out, "Sorry!"

E6 sighed and continued to tread on at a slow pace. He knew he was going to be late, but he needed time to think things out.

_He was going to be a Creator. _

The thought wouldn't leave his mind.

_He was going to be a Creator._

It was a huge reasonability, the largest of all, and it had been shoved into his hands.

He was going to have to bring nine new lives into the world, freshly sewn, with pristine shiny hands, and clean, flickering optics.

Nine new curious minds that would question and explore everything.

Nine blank slates that needed to be taught.

Nine little dolls that would admire him and follow closely behind him.

_His _nine, perfect, young creations…

…And then he would have to send them away after just a week. He knew it would tear his soul apart.

And what if he messed up? What if he wasn't really meant to be a creator after all? That this was all just some big mistake?

What if…

…he made a creation like himself?

He couldn't do it. E6 could think of a thousand scenarios of what could go wrong and how the villagers would react and how the world and life itself would be screwed over…

… But the Ancient seemed to see something that no one else could. There was something mystical about 9. Some claimed that he could see into your soul. Whatever it was, E6 couldn't help but trust the old burlap doll.

9 appeared confident that was meant to play this role, and that gave E6 a small glint of hope that maybe, just maybe, things would be fine after all.

* * *

E6 had always wondered why the buildings on the sacred grounds were so huge. He couldn't imagine why they would need to be so enormous… and the sheer amount of time that would have been put into building it…it just blew his mind away.

It didn't even look like it was made out of the same material the villagers used: adobe and clay from the stream. Everything here was so foreign and alien to E6's optics, despite the fact that he had been there once before.

There were many artifacts from the past, more than he had ever seen before. There were times when he or his siblings would find something strange buried in the ground, but the elders scorned any questions about the artifacts. They were only told was that those strange old things came from the ancient's time, and they would be told the story of the ancient when they reached their third year of life.

"There you are! We were starting to worry about you."

E6 jumped in surprise and quickly spun around to find his Creator peering at him from around one of the statues.

"When you didn't show up at sunset, we thought you tried to make a break for it. We didn't get any warning signal from the village tower though." E6 frowned at that. So they had been watching him.

D2 patted E6 on the arm with a big warm smile on his face. "Let me be the first to welcome you to the sacred grounds, new Creator!"

E6 growled. He did not appreciate D2's cheery tone. He was tired, mentally exhausted, and didn't even want to be there in the first place.

D2 laughed, "Alight grumpy, I'll show you the way to your bed. And I'm sure some oil to clean up with wouldn't go amiss either."

The furry doll hummed his approval. That did sound nice. He couldn't remember the last time he washed his insides down. Oil was a highly valued resource and was usually only reserved for older stitchpunks.

The area they entered had been broken down into smaller rooms, divided by the adobe brick walls that E6 was familiar with. But instead of the common hand-spun curtains that were hung in doorways, there were solid, tree bark doors and each one had a strange device on them.

"---Damn it 9! How many times do I have to tell you to take better care of yourself?! You're not exactly a young bundle of cloth anymore!"

E6 jumped when he heard shouting coming from one of the little rooms.

"Oh, you worry too much, 7. _You're_ always disappearing---Ow! Ow! Oww!"

"But I'm not as reckless as you and I actually take care of myself! You need to be more careful!"

D2 chuckled and shook his head. "Don't mind them. They always get like this."

E6 pondered what he heard for a moment then asked, "7? She doesn't have a letter? But that can't mean…."

"Oh, I guess they don't mention the others much at the village anymore. She's an ancient, too", answered D2 casually.

E6's jaw dropped open. "There's more than one ancient?"

"Well, yeah. 9 was the ninth of his generation, so he had to have older siblings."

E6 hummed in thought. That did make sense… "I can't believe…it's just…wow…nine ancients…how come only 9 goes to the village?"

The denim doll tensed. "E6, there…aren't nine ancients. You would have to hear the story of the Ancient to understand."

E6 pressed the ring of metal in his eyes back to make them seem larger, and stuck his bottom mouth flap out as far as possible. "Pleeeaaase, could you tell me?"

"I shouldn't tell you…I was told when I was your age--- I couldn't rest for three days straight!"

E6 whined and wiggled his mouth flap a bit in a perfect doggie pout. D2 was crumbling and losing his composure. "Well…it is kind of a tradition for us creators to break the tradition of waiting until the third year…oh, I might as well, at least some of it."

His Creator dragged him down the hall, into an empty room, and forced him to sit down on the makeshift bed. "A long time ago, there were other creatures on this planet. They were like…hmm, what's a good way to put it?…"

E6 tilted his head in thought, because he had never heard of other life before and it was a very strange concept. "Like the bugs?"

"Eh, not really. They were alive like the bugs but looked kind of like us. I can't really describe them. You should ask 3 and 4 when you have the chance.

"One of them created a sinister being, a metal contraption, and it created others in its image, and they attacked all living creatures and suffocated them with gases. The one that brought the first beast to life, the very first Creator, felt horrible, so he created the first set of dolls in order to fix his mistake. One by one, he sent them out into the war."

E6 was memorized by the tale, despite the fact that he couldn't understand some things. But that just added to the story and made it seem even more primordial.

"It was 9 who saved the world. He destroyed the first machine, with the help of his siblings." D2 smiled then, and whispered, "Do you remember the light torch?"

"Of course!" E6 remembered it very well. He remembered walking though the dark with his brothers and sisters, on their first night outside of the sacred place. They followed the glow of the light bulb, as bugs sang to them and the stars glittered above. Despite the darkness and the fact that he was walking into the unknown, E6 had felt safe and protected.

"I'd be surprised if you didn't!" D2 laughed, and E6 loved how rich and vibrant it sounded.

"9 carried a torch, just like that one, through the last few days of war, and lit the way for his siblings. He lit the way for all of us. That is why, to this day, we bear the torch as we lead the next generation through the darkness and to the village. It is our duty as Creators to follow in 9's place and light the way."

The denim doll's smile faded then. "But you see, not…all of the Ancients made it. The only ones that survived were 3, 4, 7 and 9."

"Wha-what do you mean, 'didn't make it'?" E6's eyes constricted, dreading the answer.

D2 hung his head, and whispered sadly, "They…died."

E6 knew what death was. He had seen plants and bugs die, but it never occurred to him that stitchpunks could die too.

"How did they die? What were the beasts like? When did---"

D2 groaned loudly and rested his head in his hand. "I should have known better…young ones and their never-ending questions…"

The older Creator looked up and gave his head a shake. "That's enough for tonight. If you really want to know, ask the Ancients yourself. They could tell you more than I ever could."

D2 ruffled the fur on his Creation's head. "Clean up and rest. You have a big day tomorrow."

After D2 left, E6 sighed and eyed the bowl of oil that had already been set out for him, but he wasn't in the mood anymore. He definitely had far too much to wonder about now.


	4. Shattered

Disclaimer: I don't own 9.

Author note: Yeah…somebody is going to die by the end of this. Sorry for misleading you guys into thinking that this was going to be a happy fluffy plot less story but the truth is, the world has always been a cruel place, and that will never change. E6 doesn't know this though, and reality is about to hit him head on.

This is unedited and I'm not too happy with it. But I'm stuck on how to fix it. It's just too broken for my liking. But I had to post something because I'm losing the drive to write. I need words of encouragement to push me on. So I'm posting this up in its current state. The edited version will be posted when I get it back from my editor. And your words of wisdom are most welcomed, reviewers!

Almost forgot--for those who didn't get the memo, I'm on deviant art! I'm on deviant art! (Tora does a happy dance!)

* * *

Light the Way

Chapter 3: Shattered

* * *

It was early in the morning. So early that the sun hadn't risen yet from its hiding place under the horizon. A fog had settled in making the earth smell damp and fresh, at least for those that could smell.

E6 peaked out of his room, listening for the others. He crept quietly down the hall, careful with every move that he made.

"E6, where are you going?"

The fuzzy doll nearly jumped out of his fabric in surprise and quickly spun around. "To my workroom!" he spluttered out automatically.

A2 stood in a door way and cocked his head in interest. He was a burlap doll, like 9, or at least partly. His limbs and head were burlap but his chest was faded red velvet. He was covered in patches and stitches from his younger days as a fighter. Oddly enough, he didn't have an opening device on his front, but rather a small button behind his head that kept a flap on his upper chest held shut.

A2 smiled kindly and said, "Isn't it a bit early? You don't need to work so much child. Come and sit with us."

E6 backed away shyly, shaking his head. His steps quickened until he had turned around and ran for it.

A2 sighed in defeat. He returned to the room and announced to D2, "Your creation is being strange again."

D2 waved him off, "Let him have his space. He's probably not used to so much attention."

"He's dedicated at least," said B1 as he sat down on his cushion with a bowl of oil, "I've never seen such a determined younglen."

B1 was a leather doll with a crack in his left lens, a crooked smile and wooden claps along his right side. He slumped happily into the plush seat as he undid himself and lathered up his inner workings.

"He's not working. He just messes around when no one is watching." D2 frowned and took out a piece of wood and carving tool and started to whittle away.

"Phff---that's more than the rest of you did at that age. It was a hassle just to get one of you into that room in the first place!" A2 chuckled, but it quickly turned into a grown as his body squeaked in protest as he tried to sit down. "Pass me some of that, will you?"

C9 offered her own bowl to the elder. She was a dainty, skinny thing made from a blue checkered hankie with large lenses and two little brass buttons on her front.

"I resent that! I was well behaved during my training." D2 waved his tool to make his point.

C9 sighed and shook her head. "Apparently you don't remember the catapult. I don't know what was going on in your silly head when you built that thing!"

"Oh, that was priceless all right," B1 moved his right hand in imitation of something flying through the air, and smashed it against his other hand, flinging some oil in the process. "Whooo-splat! Righ---right into the wall! You didn't even come close to the window! Hahaha!"

"Knock it off, I get it!" D2 punched the other doll in the shoulder out of embarrassment.

He settled back down and picked up his piece of wood again. "He's not like that though. He doesn't try to run away or argue with me… he's so silent sometimes that it's creepy."

"But he does get frustrated when he messes up." The sharp point of his metal tool dug too deeply into the wood and left a nick that D2 hadn't intended to make. He frowned and rubbed the wood. "We both get frustrated. I don't know what to do with him."

"He's an odd one, that's for sure; I don't know what to tell you, creation, besides don't give up. That's the last thing either of you need." C9 offered.

"Try to get him out of that room at least. It might do him some good," advised A2.

"Right..." D2 said half heartedly as he continued to work on the little piece of wood.

* * *

E6 groaned in misery, stabbed the needle back into the fabric, and groaned again.

He hated his practice work. He knew he would screw up no matter how many times he tried, but they made him do it over and over. It was okay when D2 left to visit the other E's, which he had been doing often now that he was no longer restricted to the sacred place. During those times the other creators would check up on him, but he would pick his cloth back up and pretend to be busy. Then when they left, he would go back to slacking off.

But D2 was present today and watching him from across the table. E6 groaned for the fifth time that hour and threw the mangled mess of fabric and string at D2.

"Are you still proud of me?" He huffed angrily and crossed his arms.

"I always will be." The denim doll went to the entrance, "Why don't we take a break? I have something I've been meaning to show you."

Curiosity peaked, E6 fallowed as D2 led him to the other side of the building. He paused when a peculiar sound rang through the air to its own beat. He knew he had heard that somewhere before…

"B1 must already be working on the pieces you need."

"Huh?"

"He's a smithy."

B1 was small for a smithy, in E6's opinion. The blacksmiths at the village were huge and their hearty laughs could be heard from the farthest point of the town.

" He's probably molding the pieces you'll need for when you start working. Except for the hand pieces." D2 looked at his own hands and bent his fingers, "Those are always tricky to plan ahead for because there are just so many different ways you can make them…"

"I thought I was supposed to do everything though."

"Of course not. We would be bored out of our minds otherwise." D2 pat him on the shoulder and whispered, "You're not alone. We can't do this for you, but we'll make sure to do anything possible to push you in the right direction."

"Now, enough dittle dattleing! The storage rooms are waiting." E6 fallowed his enthusiastic creator through one of the wide entrances.

His mouth fell open in shock. There were piles upon piles of cloths of so many different colors and textures. Metals and coppers caught a hold of the light coming out of the room's window. And there were so many little doo-hickys and thing-a-mabobs and other things that he couldn't name…

E6 finally managed to speak, "We've been mining and…and going through all that trouble to find resources and this has been here the entire time? Do you have oil stored in here too?" It would explain why they had been so generous when he first arrived.

"No!" D2 laughed at E6's reaction, "These are reserves for future generations. You can come in here whenever you want to, and pick out anything that catches your attention. That way, when you start working on your creations you'll have a nice small pile of material to choose from and you won't have to dig through these giant mountains for the prefect piece."

D2 went to the farthest wall where papers had been pinned up. "These are the blueprints for each and every doll. They're here for you to look at for ideas."

E6 scanned over them, until a particular set caught his optics. "Are these…the ancients?"

"Yep, that's them."

E6 felt strange as he stared at those pictures. They didn't look so much different from the dolls in the village. But if he went into the small town, he would never find those faces.

He forced himself to look away, and searched for a new topic. "What's in there?" He pointed to the door next to where the piles started.

"That's 9's private storage."

"Oh. Do you know what he keeps in there?"

"Just this and that…and life," chuckled D2 teasingly, "Come on, there are four more storage rooms to see."

E6's shutters flickered in surprise.

* * *

The fuzzy doll growled in frustration as he tried to fix a metal box that B1 had given him to work on. Unfortunately the metal plates and bolts were rusty because the smithy didn't want to waste any of his good metal.

"You know, it would be easier if you use this tool instead."

E6 looked up from the piece of metal and frowned at the offered tool. He snatched it and tried to remove a screw that had gone in crooked but it was stuck tight.

Angry, E6 threw the tool across the table. "This is pointless. I'm just a horrible failure."

"No, you're not. You're just inexperienced. You will get better with practice." But D2 didn't sound as confident as he had a few weeks ago.

E6 stood and slammed his fist onto the table. "I've been practicing! I've been doing nothing but practicing and studying since I got here and I'm not getting any better! Just send me back and pick someone else!"

"We can't. This is your place, E6." His creator stood, watching the angry stitchpunk carefully.

"How do you know 9 didn't mess up?"

"He doesn't make mistakes where this is concerned."

"How do you know?" E6 hollered, "How do you know he isn't going senile?"

D2 walked around to the other side of the table, glaring, and he spoke in a deeper tone that sounded uncharacteristic of the usually kind denim punk, "No creation of mine will show such disrespect to an ancient. Apologize!"

E6 stood his ground and glared back, "This is all your fault. Why did you make me a failure? Why did you give me This!" He pulled the fur on his chest in emphasis.

"It was a gift!"

The fuzzy stitchpunk gasped in surprise, and D2 took the silence as a chance to calm to down.

"The ancient always picks a special material out of his private collection for each creator. He gave me that fur…as a gift."

His creation didn't say anything, and the suffocating silence returned. E6 reclaimed his chair but sat with his back to D2, his legs pulled up to his chest in a hug.

"I hate you."

E6 looked up in surprise when he heard the door slam shut, followed by a click.

He rushed for the door and tried to yank it open, but it held tight.

So that's what those little devises on the door were for…

* * *

"Oh, come now, it couldn't have been that bad…" C9 placed the plant specimen that she had been examining down and went to her creation, who was huddled up into a ball on her bed.

"He hates me…my own creation hates me…"

"No he doesn't. He is just a very angry and confused child." She scooted closer to D2 and pulled him to her, forced his head onto her shoulder. "He needed to lash out, and when someone lashes out, they say things that they don't mean. You were no different when you were that young."

"I never said such hurtful things to you."

"Maybe not, but you had your bad days, too."

"He said he hates me, because I made him a failure by using that fur when I created him."

"You know that's not true. You had no control over how the others would react and treat E6. You couldn't have predicted that they wouldn't understand how special that fur is. So it's not your fault."

"I could have done something though."

"Maybe, maybe not. It doesn't matter because it's in the past," whispered C9 into the side of D2's head.

Her creation nuzzled her in appreciation. "Thank you, C9. You always know exactly what to say. I wish it could come so naturally for me."

C9 pulled away and ran a hand down the back of her creations head. "It will come with time. I was once in your place too, whimpering in B1's lap when you gave me a hard time, and surly enough, when E6s' turn comes, he's going to run weeping to you about his own troublesome creation."

"Go on now, you can't keep him locked up forever." D2 rushed out of the room, making C9 chuckle.

* * *

It wasn't as easy as C9 made it sound. E6 was quiet and wouldn't look at him as they walked back to the living area. An annoying awkward silence hung between them and D2 couldn't think of what to say.

E6 was suddenly knocked across the room. It happened so quickly, he didn't have any time to process what happened.

He stared up at an alien white face, a single red eye glaring down at him. It was a strange thing, made of metal and wires and that weird white, almost like clay but not.

E6 was frozen in shock, so scared he couldn't even shut his eyes as it roared at him and lifted a limp, ready to slash into his delicate plushy body.

Something smashed into the side of the creatures head, and it turned, abandoning E6 in its anger.

E6 tried to run but he couldn't get his feet underneath him so he scooted backwards awkwardly as he watched the monster encircle D2.

D2 threw something else at the monstrosity.

He dodged claws and razor sharp teeth, practically bending backwards to keep out of reach…

… but D2 was no fighter.

E6 watched in horror as a claw tore into his creator's body.

D2 winced in pain and tried desperately to pull himself loose, but with just a flick he was sent into a wall.

D2 lay motionless.

E6 suddenly felt a surge of…something. He had never felt such strong, powerful emotions before.

He darted for his creator, ran head on toward the beast. He dodged the first strike, nearly got swiped by the second blow, but lost his balance trying to duck the third.

He grabbed D2 by the shoulders and tried to drag him to safety but the extra wait slowed him down and he was once again knocked clear across the hall.

He couldn't get back up. He was shaking too badly, and he hurt. He hurt somewhere deep in his systems and he wanted D2…D2…

He curled up on himself, eyes shut, knowing that the monster was coming…

The E jumped in shock when something grabbed him and he struggled wildly.

"Calm down, child. Its over."

E6 blinked up at 7, then looked behind her, where the monstrosity was torn to pieces.

His frantic mind couldn't put it together, so he let it go. After a few failed tries, he managed to mutter, "D…D2…"

"He's fine. Unconscious, but fine." 7 smiled at him, completely calm, as if these kinds of things happened on a daily basses.

7 looked over her shoulder and shouted to the other creators, "Go get 9, quickly!

The beasts are back."


	5. Catch Your Breath

Disclaimer: I do not own 9

Author's note: This chapter, I like much better than the last one, and the next one is going to be even funner cuz we're getting close to the birth of the next generation. The first side story to this series should be up tomorrow. This one is also unedited. I'm going to try to do two more posts this month then hunker down and wait for editing.

One more thing: poll. It doesn't take that long to do. I'm not sure if my next epic idea is a good one and would really like the opinion of my readers. Details are in my profile.

* * *

Light the Way

Chapter 4: Catch your breath

* * *

"The beasts are not back."

9 kicked the creature for emphasis. "Look at this--he's so rusty…the rains did not give him mercy, that's for sure. It's a wonder he could still move. If there's more out there, they're in just as bad a shape as this one."

9 looked behind him at the gathered dolls, and nodded to where E6 was curled in 7's lap. "He okay?"

"Yes, he's just in shock, as far as I know. And D2 only has a rip. I don't think there's any internal damage, but you will have to double check that," responded 7.

The two ancients held each other's gaze, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. 9 broke away and whispered, "They're lucky."

"Take A2 with you to send a signal to the village. Stay together, and don't let your guard down. The library is our rendezvous point," commanded 9.

C9 took E6 from 7 and held tightly onto the shaking body. 7 nodded briskly and took off running, A2 right behind her.

The remaining group trudged slowly to the other side of the building, with B1 carrying D2 and C9 and 9 supporting E6, as his legs still shook and refused to hold him.

9 jostled him and spoke in a soft, teasing voice, "Come on now, there's nothing wrong with you. Walk with some pride. You just fought a beast and won."

E6 grumbled out, "I didn't win…I got the stuffing beat out of me…"

"You're alive, aren't you? Then you won." With that, 9 unceremoniously dumped him on the floor. "Now, get up. If you can take on a beast and get out without a tear, then you can walk on your own."

9 walked away at a brisk paste, leaving E6 blinking at him in a daze.

C9 was baffled by 9's action and quickly caught up with him and hissed, "Was that necessary?"

"Yeah, it was. Bout time someone literally knocked some since into him. An look, he's doing just dandy."

C9 craned over her shoulder where E6 was slowly trudging behind them. "But that was still harsh 9! He just faced a beast, for crying out loud. Even I have never seen a real one until today."

9 was quiet for a minute, then spoke regretfully, "I forget sometimes that you weren't there; that none of you youngsters know what true fear is." 9 turned around in search of the fuzzy doll and beckoned him to hurry up. "Come on, this is it."

E6 had only been in the library once before, when his curiosity got the best of him. He didn't like it that much because it was the ancient's domain, especially where the matching 3 and 4 were concerned.

The twins looked up from where they were transcribing the never ending contexts of their minds onto roles of papaya when the small parade entered, there large blinking eyes silently asking for an explanation.

D2 was gently placed down, and E6 plopped down next to him and curled up into his creator's side.

"There was an attack. Nothing too bad, old thing was too rusty to do any real damage. Scared the shit out of the youngens though." 9 said to the twins as he dusted off a huge book and reclined against it.

After a long silence, D2 stirred. His lenses readjusted themselves as the world came back into focus and he rubbed his head with a grown of discomfort.

E6 blubbered in joy and squeezed him. "Oh, creator! Iwassoscared!Ithoughtyoudiedwhen—"

"Slow down! I can't understand you." D2 embraced the other doll and rubbed his back soothingly, in hopes that it would calm him down.

"I'm so sorry, I take it all back…I'm so sorry…" mumbled E6 into denim.

"..It's okay." D2 whispered back.

The ancient smiled at the display. 3 and 4 had stepped closer, eyes flashing in interest. 9 grabbed 3 and 4 by the shoulders and dragged them away, so that creator and creation could have some time alone. The twins seemed too eager to catalog E6 after he escaped from their last attempt, but now was not the time.

7 strode through the crack that was the entrance to the domed library, the velvet doll following her. "Everyone at the village is safe, and there on alert now."

9 sighed in relief, and started to stager off when C9 questioned suspiciously, "If you're so sure that the beasts aren't back, then why are you getting so worked up?"

9 paused, and responded sadly, "I've been wrong before."

* * *

E6 couldn't rest, even with D2 and C9 snuggled up close to him. He was just too anxious after the attack. He stared at the ceiling, the gears in his head turning a mile a second and he was as restless as could be.

"Somewhere, over the rainbow… way up high, there's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby…"

E6 perked up at the faint sound echoing off of the metal walls. Carefully, he pulled himself loose and crept away. He peered up at the shelves that wound up the circular library, trying to determine where the song was coming from.

"Somewhere, over the rainbow… skies are blue, and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true…"

He stepped into the make-shift elevator and prayed that that it wouldn't make too much noise. He rode up to the second level, where the ancients had disappeared to earlier that evening.

"Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me…"

9 was sitting on the ledge, dangling his feet as he sang, "Where troubles melt like lemon drops, Away above the--- I'm sorry young one. Did I wake you?"

Embarrassed, E6 shook his head and hesitated to step off of the platform.

But 9 smiled broadly and waved for him to move closer. "Come and sit with me. You have questions."

E6 perked up and asked, "How did you know?"

9 crackled, "I'm old, E6! I've seen through five generations. I know a curious mind when I see one."

The younger doll relaxed and joined 9, but he kept his feet tucked under himself. "So…that was really a beast?"

9 nodded, and E6 looked away, down at where the other creators rested, "No one said they were that big…"

The Ancient muttered, "No one really likes mentioning all the little scary details."

"9… What was the beast after?"

"Oh, it was probably trying to revive the Brain. Phh- as if I'd give it the chance."

E6 tilted his head, "What do you mean?"

"Honestly boy, what do think you're made out of? Grass? I took that sucker apart a long time ago and used it for spare parts."

E6 jumped up in surprise and grabbed his chest. "I'm made out of… _What?!" _E6 wasn't even sure what a "brain" was, but if it had anything to do with the beasts, it couldn't be good.

9 sniggered at his antics, and continued, "We are living in the remains of a fallen race, made from whatever they left behind. And where do you think the hills came from? When I was created, there was nothing here but piles of rubble and dead bodies."

E6 shook his head in disbelief. It was too much for him to understand at once. What he knew as reality was being twisted into something ugly and disfigured, and he just couldn't accept it as truth. "S s-sto…stop it! Just stop it!" E6 backed away in fright.

9 shook his head sadly, "Every generation…it gets worse and worse," he stood, gears protesting loudly, and for every step he took, E6 stepped backwards. "There are harsh truths to this world, E6. You're living in a dream, in a happy safe fantasy where nothing can go wrong. You need to understand that sacrifices were made…lives were lost in order for the world to be the way it is today."

E6's back hit the wall of the shelf, and the ancient grabbed his shoulder, "We were built to survive and endure. That is at each of our cores. I know you felt it today when you faced the beast. Beyond the fear, beyond the terror, is the need to protect and insure that life continues."

The seams of 9's mouth pulled up in a smile, "Soon, you will have to play your roles as a creator, because Life must go on."

"I can't, I-" E6's protest was stopped by a shake of his shoulder.

"You can. I know you can. You always could. It's in here, E6." The fuzzy doll looked at where 9 pressed his other hand against his chest, above where his soul was contained. "You know it's there. That is why you keep trying, keep searching for your place, because on some level, you know. I believe in you, and so does D2 and the other creators. But you won't find it until you believe in yourself."

9 gave him a final pat on the shoulder, and motioned for the younger doll to sit down with him.

"Tell me more about the beasts," requested E6 as got comfortable again, and leaned back into the wall.

A glint of mirth shone in 9's eyes as he answered, "Oh, the brain had quite a creative streak---must have gotten it from our creator. It used the bones from the dead bodies to craft their shape. It made everything from flying beasts, to cats, to---"

9 was cut off when a knife embedded itself into the wood in front of them. E6 jumped away in surprise, but 9 calmly looked up at 7.

E6 had completely forgotten about the other ancients. 7 glared at 9, "No war stories 9. You're going to give him nightmares!"

"What? And you throwing knives at him isn't?"

7 smiled at the nervous child and cooed, "Oh, don't you listen to him. I wasn't aiming for you; I would never hurt a creation. _Him_ on the other hand…" her frustration at 9 returned, as well as the glare.

"You will respect the wishes of your creations, 9," She pulled her weapon out of the wood, and returned it to its holster, "No stories."

9 flickered his eyes but submitted to her wishes. "Fine, fine…no war stories. It's them that breaks their own rules though; if they're going to tell it they should tell it right. Now do you mind? I'm trying to have special moment with the kid!"

7 rolled her eyes, but she smiled as well and returned to the twins at the back of the shelf.

9 leaned in close and whispered, "If you ever want to know, ask A4 about my tale. She's the only one that can tell it right; none of that skipping out on the details mess."

E6 leaned on 9's shoulder and responded drowsily, "I never met A4…she never leaves the tower."

9 ran a hand through the fur on his arm, "She's old, like me. When you see too much, experience too much, you get old."

"But she's an A…she shouldn't…be that… old…" E6 fought to keep his optics open.

9 pushed him lay down with his head in his lap. "Rest, E6. You can ask A4 for her tales next time you go to the village; it's her talent, after all."

E6 tried again to force his lenses open, but 9 started singing again, softly, in his old, cracking tenor voice, "somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue, and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true… Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me…"

9 ran his hand over the young doll and continued singing, even though he knew E6 was already fast asleep. "…Where troubles melt like lemon drops, away above the chimney tops… That's where you'll find me... Somewhere, over the rainbow, bluebirds fly. Birds fly over the rainbow…"

The ancient suddenly cut off and whispered, "Why can't I?"

He sat there quietly, running a hand through brown fur and smiled. E6 truly had a gift. If only others could see it for what it was…

Suddenly remembering, 9 pulled his zipper open and took out a piece of cloth. After some fumbling he managed to slip it inside of E6.

He leaned in close and whispered into the sleeping child's hearing processor, "Please, E6, I don't know how much time I have left. I want to see one more generation."


	6. Hope and a beast named daffodil

Disclaimer: I don't own 9.

Author note: (blows a raspberry) yeah, that's what I think about this chapter. This story just does not like cooperating. This took way too long…but a lot had to happen in this chapter and my lack of concentration disagrees with long chapters.

* * *

Light the Way

Chapter 6: Hope and a beast named daffodil

* * *

E6 groaned in protest when the first thing he saw as he opened his optics that morning was a flash. And who the hell was petting him? He struggled, and the hands released him. He blinked his optics in an attempt to adjust them and growled at the retreating twins, "Ah, come on! That's so not fair!"

The young creator stretched, and looked around to see that he had somehow ended up on the bottom floor last night, and frowned at that. The library had been abandoned. It figured that everyone left him to be the twin's play thing. He groused moodily as he stumbled outside of the orb.

"So, what did he give you?"

E6 leapt in surprise, not expecting the others to be waiting to ambush him. He blinked at C9, completely thrown off by the question. "What?"

"We all know you and 9 'talked' last night," B1 said with a meaningful smile.

E6 started to back away, ducking his head slightly. He really disliked crowds as they usually meant trouble, and he did not like the way the other creators were looking at him. "Um…yeah, we talked, nothing else happened. And how do you know that!"

"Never mind that. Did you even check?" E6 looked at where C9 pointed at his rope, and decided to take a look, if just to prove them wrong. To his surprise, he found a white piece of thin cloth. C9 and B1 were surprised, but A2 seemed to become saddened.

"Something wrong?" B1 asked him, concerned.

A2 shook his head, "Nothing…it probably means nothing," and left the little group.

B2 shrugged at the odd behavior, knelt down in front of E6 and whispered playfully, "Do you know what that is?"

E6 starred down at the material in his hands. Was that supposed to be a trick question? "Cloth?"

"Not just any cloth, that's 9's most prized possession," B1 stroked it fondly with a finger, "This came from his creator. He must really trust you, to give you this."

E6's hands trembled. He couldn't believe that…he was holding the cloth of a _god_. He thrust the material at B1 and begged, "Please, I don't disserve this! I—"

B1 was still smiling as he forced the smaller metal hands to close around the fabric. "It's not mine to take."

"E6," the fur doll noticed D2 hanging behind the other two, and they stepped aside for him, "I have my own gift for you."

D2 laid a pair of wooden buttons in his arms. They were beautifully carved with intertwining patterns threading along the edge.

Suddenly the world looked different.

This is what it meant, to belong. To be surrounded by those that cared for you…and that you cared for back.

For the first time E6 realized, he had a family.

E6 was pulled out of his thoughts by a loud crash."What was that?"

B2 shrugged, "Most likely 7 trying to 'persuade' 9 into going to the village."

The E spun around to face him in surprise, "What for?"

"Everyone is a bit spooked after hearing about the attack. His presence would be calming." Explained C9

D2 smiled at a sudden idea. "Why don't you come E6? It's been a while now and you disserve the chance to visit."

"I'm not sure if that would be a good idea…" He had too many bad memories there and didn't want the creators to see exactly how he had been treated.

"Do it for E3. It would probably put his mind at ease."

E6 groaned. His creator had a point. He did miss his brother and he was probably having fits. He sighed in defeat and nodded.

* * *

That afternoon, E6, A2, D2 and 9 gathered outside in the shadow of the third statue. C9 had come to see them off, but E6 couldn't figure out why she was carrying leather straps with her.

Hanging from the old stone form was a metal bell. C9 rang it, its sweet chimes echoing loudly through the fields. There was motion on the distance, two forms pushing at a fast speed though the grass. E6 felt sick when the two figures reviled themselves as they made it through the crumbled gate and raced to C9's side.

Greater Beatles.

They were huge, much larger than their ancestors with shiny green exoskeletons and were arguably loyal pets. E6 being one of the ones that highly disagreed.

C9 fondly pat their heads and harnessed them up. She asked as she worked, "Is two okay? I don't think the others are coming…mating season and all, you know?"

"Two will be fine." A2 approached one of the steeds and let it identify him with a few waves of its antenna.

"You've got to be kidding me…" E6 backed away, but D2 grabbed him and dragged him foreword.

A2 noticed the interaction and frowned, "Please tell me you learned how to ride…"

"No, they gave up teaching me after I broke my arm…and um…" E6 dug his feet into the dirt and nervously spluttered, "did I mention they like eating my fur for some reason? I'll just walk…"

"Nonsense, that'll take too long!" 9 mounted the bug rather excitedly for someone who had been opposed to visiting the village in the first place.

A2 quickly lifted himself up in front of the ancient and took the reins from him. "I'm steering this time! Remember what happened last time when you tried to drag race?"

9 made a raspberry sound at him.

E6 watched the other bug suspiciously as he was dragged toward it. It raised its head in interest and clicked at him. He froze, but D2 pulled its head away by the reins and gave a reassuring smile.

The fuzz doll took a deep breath, and quickly tried to get up on the smooth back. It took a few tries but he managed to get on without help. D2 scooted up behind him and gave the piece of leather strap a flick to get the bug running.

E6 gasped in surprise and reached out to grab something, but couldn't find purchase on the hard shell. He ended up leaning into D2 in the hopes that would be enough to keep him from falling. After his initial fright vanished, he looked out at the passing world, and he had to admit that he loved the way it felt when the wind blew through his fur.

That good feeling vanished when he suddenly found the strap in his hands.

"What do I do?" His fear of being flung off was the only thing keeping him from yanking the beetle to a stop.

"Nothing! Just let him run, he knows where he's going! Just make sure he slows down when he get to the village."

E6 took a deep breath to calm his nerves and found himself starting to enjoy the ride again, particularly when the beetle plunged down one of the hills that they would normally walk around. D2 flung his hands in the air and screamed in excitement. Feeling even more enthusiastic then before, E6 copied him and let out a "whoo-hoo!"

All too soon they made it to the village in half the time it would take on foot, which was great because evening had set.

The beetles trotted there way to the corral and the dolls dismounted. E6 was laughing hysterically and had to grab the pen railing to keep himself up. "That was amazing! I didn't think it would be that much fun!"

D2 couldn't keep a smile off his face, very pleased that E6 had found joy. The dolls on duty set to taking care of the beetles, allowing the creators to make there way to the tower.

The tower occupied the top of the center hill and its purpose was more than just to act as a watch tower. The A's, as the current elders of the village, had their meetings there. A4 lived there and it had a few extra rooms for the creators when they visited.

It was no surprise to any of them that A8 was waiting for them in the entrance chamber. He had little else to do since he was forced to retire from running the workshop the inverters used. There was a lot of screaming and wreckage involved, A1 spent a good three days trying to tie him to a bed and see reason, and A2 had to go to the village and calm them down.

And everyone remembered very, very well that it all started because a hammer slipped out of E6's hand and threw A8's back bar out of alignment.

A8 nodded politely to each of them in turn, "Brother, ancient, D2…E6, welcome back."

A2 smiled broadly and pat him on the shoulder, "It's good to be back. Would you mind retrieving A1 for us? We're in need of his services."

A8 scrawled at the idea of having to speak to his least favorite sibling.

A2 noticed his expression and added, "Nicely, please. No need to start any drama."

"Of course," he walked out of the wide ornamental enterance, but then paused and said over his shoulder with a smirk, "And E6, try not to burn anything?"

E6 threw his arms up in defeat and marched up the winding stair case. "You catch someone on fire once, on complete accident, and they never let you live it down."

* * *

The fur covered doll huffed in relief when he finely made it to the top of the tower.

He made his way to the railing, ignoring the doll that was on the other side, smiled and fondly touched one of the telescopes. He had spent a lot of time up there, serving punishments for something or another. It was one of the rare things he couldn't screw up.

E6 made himself comfortable, and enjoyed watching as the sky changed colors in farewell to the sun. As the last rays left, he saw a flashing coming from the ancient grounds. He grabbed the light from nearby and flashed back, 'we arrived'.

There was a pause, then another set of flashes that he translated into, 'stay safe'.

He contemplated on what to say back, came to the conclusion that there wasn't really anything else to be said and left. As he was heading down the hall to the room that they were staying in, voices caught his attention.

E6 halted at the entrance of the room, when someone suddenly shouted, "Hold still! You're making this imposable…!"

He watched the forms of dolls through the thin fabric as they moved about, their voices low and sullen.

"…not good…it wouldn't be worth…just keep getting worse…"

"How long until…"

"Can' t say. Depends on how much..." One of the shadows moved to the curtain. E6 spun around frantically and ducked into the doorway on the other side, into a dark room.

"Who's there?"

E6 held his breath, thinking that if he stayed quiet, he would be ignored.

"I know your there, there's no sense in trying to hide from me. Who are you?", called out the voice again. It was a female voice cracked with age. There was no menace to the voice, just curiosity.

"E6." He squinted into the darkness, trying to see the speaker.

"Ah, I've heard of you. Come here so I can see you."

E6 tried to find the doll but ended up running into something, The voice laughed, "Silly me, the lights! I always forget to turn them on when someone comes by."

With a flick, the room lit up. E6 awed in wonder. Strings of little light bulbs had been hung on the ceiling, illuminating a mosaic of the night sky. "It's beautiful…"

"Is it? Everyone says that, but I honestly can't tell. I'll have to take your word for it." E6 turned to look for the speaker, and gasped.

She was a raggedy thing, with two stitches on her face, one stretching out from the right side, the other running down along her mouth and disappearing under a checkered blue bandana that covered where her eyes should have been. The rest of her head was covered by an orange patch. Covering the rest of her was a quilted dress garnished with a piece of lace.

"y…your…"

"Missing an optic or two?" She smiled, making the stitches bend with her mouth, "I lost them to a beast a long time ago. I find life a whole lot easier this way. You would be surprised by the things you see without them."

"Your A4." It had never occurred to him before that there might have been a reason A4 never left the tower, especially not anything like this.

"Yes, I am. Stitchpunks come to me with their tales and I immortalize them in stories passed on to the ears of eager listeners. I uncover all truths. I am the story teller. Before you lies our complete history to this date."

E6 looked around the room and marveled at the extensive amount of shelves holding scrolls, almost as impressive as the twin's collection. "You wrote all of these?"

She snorted at the thought, "No, they were transcribed for me. Now come here, you haven't let me see you yet."

E6 had an idea of what she intended and uneasily made his way to the little rocking chair she sat in. He stiffened at her touches but endured them. "You have quite some stories to your name already, did you know that? Especially this recent one about the attack. It would really appreciate it if you come by tomorrow and help me get it into the records."

"Alright." E6 agreed quickly, definitely wanting an excuse to visit the story teller.

She smiled, and waved him off, "Now shoo, before someone notices you're missing." A4 heard the retreating feat, and a thump as he bumped into one of the shelves.

* * *

E6 stepped carefully down the stairs, trying to remember where A4's room was. After sticking his head into several doorways, he finely found it, but A4 wasn't there.

He looked around at the crowded room. Every wall was covered with shelves, and the one large window was blocked off by a desk. Baskets filled with blank scrolls and ink bottles occupied stools and tables, leaving the brightly colored rug in front of A4's rocking chair the only place to sit down at. Whoever designed the room had a horrible sense of humor. Besides the fact that it had more color in it then any room he had seen before, there were so many obstacles he had to wonder how A4 navigated through it.

There was an entrance in the back that led to a connected room, covered by strings of glass beads that caught the mornings light, and he wondered for a bit if he should check it out.

"What are you doing here? Out, get out!" E6 jumped in surprise and spun.

A female punk, made of tan canvas and striped cloth stood behind him, and he did not like the expression on her face.

"C2, calm down and stop being silly. I invited him." E6 spun back around to see A4 emerge from the other room, the glass beads clinking together at her passing.

The c asked crossly, "Don't you know who this is?"

A4 made her way through the room, stepping over things or walking around them, and claimed her rocking chair. E6 marveled at the way she could maneuver without running into anything, and wondered how exactly she did it. "Of course I do. He's a creator and you would best mind your manners around him."

That seemed to stop C2 and she opted for ignoring him. She took a seat at the desk and opened up one of the scrolls. "Will we be picking up where we left off last?"

A4 raised her head slightly in her direction, and pushed to make the chair rock. "No, we'll be starting a new scroll."

C2 turned around quickly, nearly dropping the parchment and balked, "What? But what about…"

A4 held her hand up to signal her to stop."It can wait. E6 will only be here for a few days and I want his tale written out properly. There are already rumors going about, and you know how I feel about those."

"Rumors? About what?" E6 looked between the two.

C2 got up to claim a blank scroll, and raised an eye stitch. "About how you courageously defeated the beast, of course."

"What?" E6 spun to look back at the storyteller.

"Exactly," A4 nodded in agreement, "rumors are my pet peeve. It ruins the stories of our past so we need to sort this one out. Now tell me, what did happen?"

"Um…actually, I don't think I mind the defeating the beast version. Let's just stick with that." He started to back up to the door.

A4 heard the motion and frowned, her voice now serous. "E6, sit your rear down right this minute or so help me I'll glue you there."

E6's legs collapsed underneath him. A4 was very pleased with that and leaned forward, stopping the rocking chair's motion. "Now, start from the beginning. That's the best place to start from."

He sighed and told the events of the attack. Occasionally he would look over at the desk, where C2 was taking notes and smirking every so often.

When she was finished, C9 tossed the scroll at him. "Put it up on the shelf, farthest one on the right, the one that's mostly empty."

Curious, E6 opened and scanned over the scroll. He was surprised to find that the C had been accurate and precise, only writing the facts and leaving her own opinion on him out of it, despite the looks she kept giving him.

E6 went to put it away in its proper spot. Suddenly he was face first on the floor. He looked up just in time to see a beast leap at him. He screamed in horror, kicking wildly to get away from it then fell still.

C2, annoyed with having to get up, gave E6 a prod with her foot. "Congratulations. You killed another one. I keep telling you we need to move that thing…"

A4 pouted, "I don't see why you all don't like it. I think it's cute," and pat its head fondly.

C2 picked the scroll up and stepped over the unconscious doll. "You think worms are cute too. Which brings me back to my theory that blind people shouldn't have an opinion on something's visual appearance."

"Wha…?" E6's head rose, his eyes readjusting and leaving him disoriented for a moment.

"You got a bit spooked by my art project. I use it to put some pizzazz into the stories about the ancient's time. You think it's cute, don't you?" A4 prompted.

E6 blinked up at the beast that hung above their heads. Now that he had a good look at it, he could see it was crudely shaped out of clay…and was is smiling? It toothy grin reached up its oddly shaped head far beyond where it should have stopped. It looked like A4 couldn't decide which beast to model it after and did a little bit of everything.

It hung on multiple wires and seemed to be connected to some sort of pulley system that he triggered on accident. "Well, I wouldn't call it cute, but um…its very creative looking, I guess…?"

C2 snorted, "Please don't encourage her. The last thing we need is for her to make another one." She went back to the desk, almost stumbling over a box in the process. "Now could we please get back to finishing that scroll?"

"If you insist." A4 grabbed the wire that held the beast and yanked him back into his hiding place, tying them to a basket near her chair. "You're welcome to stay and listen E6."

"No, I have something else I need to do. I'll come by later though." E6 carefully made his way to the door, almost running into the same bookshelf again And he had to wonder again how exactly a blind woman could get through that mess easier then someone with optics.

* * *

E6 carefully crept into the work shop, figuring that was the most likely place that E3 would be at during that time of day. Sure enough, E3 was sanding down a piece of furniture that he built.

The leather doll lit up with glee the moment he saw E6 and immediately dropped his things and ran to greet his friend. "There you are! Thought you forgot about me."

"Course not. I just had some… business to take care of this morning. Um…could we go somewhere else to talk?" E6 nodded his head at the other punks in the shop that were giving him a mix of curious looks and glares.

"Oh, sure." The two walked out side by side, heading toward the river.

"So, how have things been going?" E3 asked causally.

E6 shrugged, "Somewhere between difficult and impossible… and recently surreal."

"No one's telling us what happened."

E6 paused, his stitches rising. "Really? A4 said that rumors have been going around like wildfire about it."

"That doesn't mean we're in on it," E3 shrugged, "So, what did happen? All I've gotten from the whispers is that you did something amazing."

E6 paused and looked his brother strait in the optic, contemplating on the right course of action. He understood suddenly, what 9 meant when he talked about getting old. He understood something that his siblings didn't, something ancient and sacred to their people and it made him feel…older, that he was responsible for that knowledge. "There's a lot we don't know, about how we came to be…and our purpose. I wasn't ready to know, and you aren't either. You'll understand one day. Besides, I didn't really do anything."

E3 watched as his brother started walking, and a goofy smile broke over his face. He knew without having to ask, that E6 had found his place.

* * *

E6 was cuddled up against a shelf, his optics glued to the paper in front of him as he read down it hungrily. He found it all very fascinating. The list of recorded human artifacts, the copies of their own books, hell, anything to do with humans was interesting. Especially the ancient's tale.

"I could just tell it to you. The stories are far much better when told aloud." A4 offered for the second time that hour.

He shrugged her off, "It's okay. This way I can talk to you too." Finely reaching the end, he rolled it back up and reached for the next one from that series. He didn't open it though and looked up at the back of the storyteller's head. "How come you never leave the tower?"

A4 sighed, "I'm not the prettiest thing to look at."

E6 understood that; they were kindred spirits and it saddened him that she perceived herself that way. "How do you know? You can't see so you can't just assume that you're not pretty."

She laughed, "Oh, you flatterer! I know what I look like, and that would put questions in young minds, questions with answers that they're not ready for and it would cause a commotion. My life is easier this way."

E6 unrolled the paper, but he found he couldn't concentrate on the words anymore. "I've read through the human era, and the beginning of the new world era but I just…" he paused, unsure of what he was trying to get at, "…why?"

The rocking stopped. E6 had quickly come to learn that A4 only stopped her chair when she was being serious. "Is that why you wanted to read my scrolls?"

He was quick to protest, ""No, no! It's all very interesting it's just…How does this all come down to me…as a creator?"

The eyeless face tilted in the direction of his voice, "E6, do you even know what the greatest duty of the creators is?"

"To make the next generation." E6 ducked when he was unexpectedly swatted over the head. "Hey!"

"No you silly boy. That is only you're first hurtle. You are a symbol of hope. That is why you and the other creators came, isn't it? To calm your people for they trust you. 'And with a twist the dusty light bulb it came to life, forcing the dark to flee from them. And his brother smiled, knowing in his soul that there was hope.'"

E6 scooted closer, "The scroll didn't say it like that."

"The scrolls are just references for the next story teller. To capture the listener and to show them the past with words alone; that is the true art of storytelling." A4 pushed back, and the chair started rocking again.

He scoffed, "But me, a symbol of hope? They certainly don't act like it."

She chuckled, her stitches curving with her smile and a hand ruffled his fur. "Forgive them, E6, we are all younger then you think."

E6's face scrunched up. He was confused now because her words contradicted what 9 told him. He stared up at the painted ceiling, thinking about the beast, life, and how he was hope.

* * *

A2 startled at the sudden sound of feet going by loud and fast, and peaked out into the hall. He let the fabric fall and shook his head in disbelief. "Well, he's been a lot chipper lately."

"Hmm," 9 nodded from his cushion, "we should have introduced him to A4 sooner. Its apparently been doing him a world of good."

"Wait. What?" D2 froze, almost overfilling one of the bowls with oil.

9 managed to tip the jug back up before any spills occurred. "You didn't know? He's been going to see her every morning since we arrived."

D2 looked between the ancient and the A in shock. "Are you out of your minds? I'm surprised he hasn't run off screaming in terror yet."

"Oh, she's not that bad…" The burlap and velvet doll smiled fondly.

D2 was not convinced. "She made her own twisted recreation of a beast and uses it to scare the daylights out of everyone." When he realized that they were seeing how crazy the 4th of the As was, he added, "It SMILES and she named it Daffodil."

A2 shrugged, "So she's bit off her rocker. Your point?"

D2 blinked, thinking that it was quite obvious. "…Why hasn't E6 had a panic attack yet?"

"They have a lot in common, those two. I think she's finally done what we couldn't and got through to him." With a smile, 9 claimed one of the bowls and raised it up. "To hope and youth and a beast named Daffodil."

A2 clicked his own bowl against 9's in a mock toast. "To Daffodil!"

D2 shook his head at their silliness.

* * *

Author's note: You would think a mutated, smiling beast named Daffodil made by a crazy old blind woman wouldn't be that scary. Apparently not…it's a miracle that they can tell what it's supposed to be, actually. This is also probably the first chapter of this story that has some proper Tora humor in it. This was long overdue, but now we get into the really fun stuff.

Make a Tora happy. Review, or adopt a bunny. I NEED to see those bunnies in action.


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